


Three Dates

by LadyCharliEM



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-The Final Problem, post-series 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9338864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCharliEM/pseuds/LadyCharliEM
Summary: How Sherlock Holmes got Molly Hooper to forgive him.Post The Final Problem. The Final Problem Spoilers!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for The Final Problem. Please please please do not read this unless you have seen the last episode. 
> 
> Thank you! 
> 
> Am I the only one who thinks there should have been a scene between Molly and Sherlock after the whole phone call/I Love You thing? Well, my brain won't let it go and here is my Sherlolly Shipper version of how Sherlock Holmes got Molly Hooper to forgive him. 
> 
> Enjoy!

She doesn't answer his calls, not that he expects her to given what happened the last time he rang. 

What he did to her was unforgivable, the words he'd forced from her were cruel and... and he could stop thinking about it, about the pain in her voice, the tears that were obviously in her eyes as he took the last of her dignity. 

He wanted to blame his sister, blame her for putting him in a situation where he had to play with the emotions of the woman he trusted most in the world, but he couldn't. Because if he really admitted it, what Eurus had made him do was exactly what he'd already been doing to Molly for years. 

So he found himself walking down those stone steps to her front door, determined to get Molly to speak to him. To make it right. Fix it, whatever it takes, John had said. He hesitated at the door, she wouldn't answer if she knew it was him, so he adjusted his stance and knocked a few inches lower than someone of his height would. A small change in the placement on the door would alter the sound and Molly's subconscious wouldn't even associate it with a tall male so she'd come quickly and unsuspecting. 

Which she did. He saw her blurry outline in the glass and caught the moment she realised it was him on the other side. She could turn around and ignore him, pretend he wasn't there, but she wouldn't. Molly wasn't like that. 

"What do you want, Sherlock?" Molly greeted, her lips a tight line as she peered around the half open door. 

"It was your coffin." Sherlock blurted out, frowning. That wasn't what he was meant to say. 

"What?" She stepped around and crossing her arms. 

"It was a game. No, not a game. A challenge. She... she made me a rat in a maze and watched as I worked out each puzzle." Sherlock said, his head falling and eyes closing shut as he recalled it. "To find a murderer in less than a minute. To force John or Mycroft to take a life... to force me to kill one of them..." He looked up to see her horrified face. "To make someone say I love you." It only took a moment for what he said to dawn on her. 

"It was a... a challenge?" Her hand covered her mouth. "I was a challenge?" 

"Molly-"

"That's sick, Sherlock. I know you don't know these things, but what you did... it was sick." 

"I didn't pick you. Eurus did." He couldn't meet her angry glare as he continued. "She knew about you, knew about our friendship, knew about your feelings. She had cameras in your flat, in your kitchen, she said she had placed explosives and gave me a time limit..." 

Suddenly Molly was gone, door wide open as she rushed into the flat. He followed, slowly, not wanting to scare her away. 

"My kitchen. This kitchen?" Molly asked, looking at him dead in the eye as she pointed at the floor. He nodded in response. "Where?" 

"Excuse me?"

"Where were the cameras, Sherlock?" She demanded. 

Stunned, Sherlock took a moment to recall the footage Eurus had shown him and looked around. "There." He pointed at the jars on top of her fridge and on top of the kitchen door frame. "There. And there." She rushed to the picture frame on the wall and pulled it off, ripping the small electrical device off the bottom before slamming it on the counter before snatching the tiny black camera from the door. Then standing on her toes to reach to fridge, she struggled for a moment, huffing and cursing to herself before Sherlock carefully stood behind her and reached up, pulling the jar down and passing it to her. 

The recording devices placed next to each other Molly used the jar to smash down on them repeatedly. 

"Is that all of them?" She asked, breathing heavy. 

"Yes." 

"Good." She turned her back and Sherlock worried if she would now scream and yell and kick him out like he expected her to do the moment she opened the front door, but a familiar click of the kettle being switch on surprised him. 

"Molly-" He asked, voice low and soft. 

"Tea?" 

"I don't understand." 

She sighed loudly. "A cup of tea, would you like one?" 

"Why are you offering me tea? Why aren't you shouting or crying or doing what people do when someone hurts them?" He asked, confused as Molly's shoulders sunk. 

"Because," Molly turned slowly, setting two mugs down on the counter. "If we're going to talk about this then I'm going to need a cup of tea and we're going to sit down and actually talk about it." 

His eyebrows shot up as he just nodded. "Tea would be nice." 

"Right. Living rooms right through there, I'll be two minutes." 

Sherlock followed her instructions and found himself awkwardly sitting on Molly's overly soft sofa, a cat having commandeered the only comfy chair in her flat. 

For the first time, Sherlock didn't know what to do. John had prepared him for her slamming the door, screaming, cursing, but not a civilised chat. He ran a hand over his jaw, staring at the cat who glared back, what was he supposed to say now? 

Molly walked in, a mug held out for him to take. 

"Right. So, let me get this straight." Molly shooed the cat away and took its place. "I was a test." 

Sherlock gulped, a lump in his throat. "Yes." The words came out pained. 

"So, get me to say "I love you" or I die. Why couldn't you just tell me to run? To get out of my flat?" 

There was a pregnant pause and Sherlock looked stunned. "I... I didn't think of that." 

"The great Sherlock Holmes didn't think of something?" She laughed as he looked away. 

"It was a stressful day." 

"Right. So I get it. You did what you had to to save my life." Molly clarified, taking a hand off her mug and running it through her hair. "It was cruel, but I guess that was the point... I can't really figure out why your sister would do it, but I suppose I could forgive you." 

"She lbs my friendship with you was important, she wanted to ruin that... ruin you." The mug felt boiling in his hands as he watched her take a shaky sip. "She wanted to punish- wait, you forgive me? You haven't been answering my calls, you've avoided me at St Barts. Why- why were you doing that?" 

"I said I could forgive you Sherlock, not that I have." Her fingers played with the rim of the mug, a droplet of tea spreading around the edge. "What you did, even if it was under duress, it hurt me, really hurt me." Her shaky breath made Sherlock cringe internally. "I've spent years trying to get over you, you know that. And yet you said those things... what you made me say... you knew what that would do to me, and yet you couldn't think of a single other way to save me?" 

"I..." Sherlock paused, stopping himself. "I panicked. I couldn't have you die." 

"But you could break my heart?" Sherlock winced as her voice cracked. 

"I'm so sorry, Molly. If I could take it back-" 

"But you can't. Once again, I'm a fool for you and I can't take it anymore, Sherlock. I just can't." 

"How can I fix this Molly? Tell me." Sherlock placed the mug on a small side table and leaned forward. John said he could fix this, whatever it takes.

"How many minutes did she give you?"

"I'm sorry?" 

"Your sister. How long did she give you to make me say it? To undo years of trying to get over you, to move on? What was the time limit she gave you, Sherlock?" 

He frowned, forehead crinkled and the lines between his eyebrows deepening. "Three minutes." 

"Three?" She let out a harsh laugh. "It felt longer." Molly's hand was shaking as she covered her mouth. 

"Molly-" 

"Three dates." Molly said, her voice stronger than before. "That's how you can fix it. I want three dates." 

"Dates- with me?" Molly nodded. "Why?" 

"Because I can. Because you owe me and maybe because I want to pretend." 

"Pretend?" Sherlock asked, eyes searching her face for meaning. 

"Yep. Three dates. Real dates, not just coming to the morgue or babysitting Rosie together. I want you to take me out, plan activities to do, dress up nicely, buy me flowers." She explained as if it was the simplest thing in the world. 

"Like a boyfriend?" Sherlock asked, still perplexed. 

"No. Just 3 dates. Let me see how terrible it would be to date you, let me get it out of my system and prove it wouldn't work. Then we can go back to how it was and maybe I actually have a chance of getting over you." Molly said, placing her mug down on the coffee table and placing her hands in her lap. "Do we have a deal?" 

Sherlock's mouth hung agape, still looking at her confused. John said to do anything, and out of all the ways this could have gone, Sherlock certainly didn't expect this, but it didn't seem bad at all. "Deal." 

Molly visibly relaxed and Sherlock realised he'd been holding his breath. Exhaling, he stood up, the cat from earlier fleeing the room at the sudden movement. 

"Good." Molly stood up, awkwardly standing in front of him, hands wringing each other as she gave a small smile. "I'm free tomorrow night." 

"Yes. Is eight an appropriate time? I'll text you the address." Molly's smile fell and he knew he'd already made a mistake. "Or we could meet here and get a cab?" He asked, voice a little higher than normal, and was greeted with a smile again. "Right. See you... tomorrow." He said, the sentence feeling odd, he'd never planned in advance to see Molly. 

"I look forward to it." They walked to the door slowly, Molly opened it but Sherlock lingered. 

"I am truly sorry, Molly. I-" 

"I know, Sherlock." She reached out and squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry as well. It must be so hard to have your brain, I can't imagine what your sister went through." Her voice was soft and Sherlock could see the kindness in her eyes. She really cared about Eurus, but she had no reason to, in fact, she had every reason to hate the other woman and yet she didn't. Sherlock would never understand Molly Hooper. 

"Neither can I." He replied, tone full of sadness. "But thank you, Molly. I will fix this." 

"Yeah. I know you'll do your best. You always do." Molly smiled as they said goodbye, the door closing slowly behind him, Sherlock flagged down a cab and pulled out his phone. 

Spoke to Molly. Need date ideas. Meet at 221b.  
SH


End file.
